


The Bitch of Living

by ConnbonMurphy



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Based off of the birch of living, By implied I mean Connor thinks about him while he jerks off, No ones really together, One Shot, a super short one shot, cause I fuckin love that song, sprong awakening au?????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 23:30:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13110801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConnbonMurphy/pseuds/ConnbonMurphy
Summary: “Oh god what a bitch”- the gang can’t seem to catch a break





	The Bitch of Living

Evan swears.

He swears in his life that he wasn’t staring at the other boys shower in gym. He was merely observing. Observing their behavior. For science.

“Yeah, for science” He whispers to himself in bed. ‘For science’ looking at them under the spray of water washing off sweat. Looking at them push and laugh with others, smiling as soap runs down their legs. Looking at their movements, their skin, their grace. All for science.

The male was a very intriguing specimen. They have sharper and rugged forms. Some are tall, others short. Some have toned arms that can hold you, others have soft arms that you can lay on. Their stomachs the same, toned or soft but both great for laying on. Their hands, fumble and grasp at everything rudely but gracefully. They reach places that bring absolute bliss. Their lips touching every inch. Their love raining over you moving in and out _in and out in and out_ till it _explodes_.

 _It’s all for science_ Evan reminds himself.

Sometimes his whole life seemed like some test.

* * *

 

Connor couldn’t sleep.

This wasn’t unusual, he knows this game of tug-of-war with his brain well to know that he won’t be getting much sleep tonight. He’ll lay there in his bed until the early hours of the morning and just _maybe_ get three hours of shut-eye before he’s up for school. Tonight, however, was different. He was able to get in an hour of rest before he was awoken by the angel in blue.

 This wasn’t new but being plagued by these invasive, sticky thoughts was absolute hell. He’s being bothered by this angel in blue almost every night now, asking him to sin and go blind. Images of men with golden fins and the touch of love threaten to flood him and he can’t help but think of the on comming bliss.

Connor really doesn’t know what he did to deserve this. 

 _Fucking bitch_ He can’t help but think.

* * *

 

 

Alana was up again. 

It was 3am and here she was, again, working on her Latin. 

“litora, multum ille et terris iactatus et alto. Vi superum, saevae memorem Iunonis ob iram. Multa quoque et bello passus, dum conderet urbem.” _Good, again._

 _“_ litora, multum ille et terris iactatus et alto. Vi superum, saevae memorem Iunonis ob iram. Mul- multi- mul- _multa quoque!”_ She yells _,_ this is the fourth time she messes up on stupid “multa quoque” _._ She looks over at her digital clock next to her sitting on the desk.

3:45am

She knows she should sleep. If she doesn’t, she’ll fall asleep again in Latin and it’ll be the same thing tomorrow night. Up again studying a dead language that she’ll only need to get into a university. With a deep sigh she starts again.

”...dum conderet urb- shit!” She throws herself out of her chair and rushes to her bag on the other side of the room. Her fear is realized when she sees the blank sheet of trigonometry problems in her binder. She drops her head and makes contact with the binder, emitting a thumping sound.

On top of it all, she still needs to finish that paper on the Habsburgs.

* * *

Zoe couldn’t help but wonder. 

Why wasn’t anything okay if it wasn’t scripted in their bible? Why did she learn more from looking at herself and not at the priests and pastors her parents and the neighbors looked at.

“Trust in what is written, Zoe.” Her mother would say. 

Why should she? Half of all wars based on one man and somehow she was expected to trust in what was written. It made no sense. There had to much more to find, much more to know than what is written. More to life. 

She quickly decided that god was dead. 

* * *

Jared had one of the best nights rests in his life. He surprisingly was having a good day so far which was new for him but all his classes so far were going smoothly. 

He walked up to his friends sitting at their usual table in the courtyard and quickly noticed their tired and frustrated faces. 

“What’s up with you glum mugs? I’ve been having one of the best days and just looking at you guys is ruining it. Jesus I mean you look like you’ve just seen puppies get killed, what happened?” He asks setting his backpack down on the floor and taking a seat next to Evan.

”Gym class.”

”My hand.”

”Latin.”

”God is dead.”  

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at 2am ik it’s bad please give me kudos


End file.
